


Heat of the Day

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:49:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was beautiful. <i>Daniel</i> was beautiful, and he should not be thinking that. He was so fucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat of the Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sid/gifts).



> Written to the prompts: waterfall, temptation

“Wow,” Daniel said, breathlessly, dropping his pack and swiping his sweat-soaked bandana from his head. “That water is calling to me.”  
  
Jack reluctantly tore his gaze from a hot, sweaty Daniel to focus on the high waterfall in the jungle clearing. It was picture perfect, with water tumbling over a crescent of flat rock and falling to a deep, wide pool at the bottom. Where the water landed, there was a smooth table of rock. Any second, Jack expected the strains of _Bali Hai_ to echo from the heavens.  
  
Daniel wiped his face with the bandana before walking over to the pool, dipping it in and wiping his face again. Jack immediately mourned the loss of the sweat. He wanted to wear that bandana; tie it round his neck so that he could feel Daniel’s sweat, smell it, rub it into his skin.  
  
Four hours they’d been trudging through the stifling heat and the Gate was still at least an hour away. Jack had been bitching about the fucking trees and the fucking heat – anything to take his mind off a deliciously grimy Daniel, whose six was invitingly swaying in front of him as they made their way back from the temple ruins. Daniel wasn’t bitching. He was thrumming with the kind of meaning of life stuff excitement that did exquisite things to Jack’s libido. It was simple. Jack loved Daniel and anything that made Daniel happy made Jack happy. And horny as fuck.  
  
Daniel bent down and began unlacing his boots. “You coming in?” he asked, straightening up to pull off the black T-shirt that was plastered to his skin. Jack’s mouth went dry at the sight of muscles and tendons stretching and flexing under tanned skin. He glimpsed damp, tufted armpit hair and went suddenly hard. He turned away as Daniel shucked pants and underwear.  
  
“I’ll keep watch,” Jack managed to say, somehow, looking anywhere but at the naked man before him.  
  
“It’s pretty much certain we’re alone here.” Daniel was watching him, his gaze questioning, slight puzzlement making him frown, and then he was grinning, making a drop of sweat fall from the end of his nose onto his top lip. He licked it away, slowly. _Race you,_ he was saying.  
  
“It’ll be cold,” Jack said, desperate. It was a stupid thing to say. Of course it would be cold. Obvious. God. He was feeling tongue-tied, out of his depth, eighteen again. This man was his friend. He shouldn’t want to lick the sweat from his neck, tongue the salt from his nipples, nuzzle under his arm until the scent of him filled his senses.  
  
“I hope so. I’m so hot it’s unbearable.”  
  
 _Yes. You are._ For one awful moment, Jack thought he’d said that out loud.  
  
“Your loss,” Daniel said, giving Jack one long, last, unquantifiable look as he waded into the water.  
  
Jack looked heavenwards. He had to get a handle on this. He’d tamped down attraction before, he could do it again. Except ... this was Daniel and he loved him. That love for a friend had turned into something else and allied itself to physical attraction he was finding confusing and difficult to fight. But he couldn’t give in. There was too much at stake. His body, though, had other ideas. His cock had lengthened and filled and it sat tight against his stomach. He palmed it through layers of soaked cotton. The pressure felt wonderful.  
  
Daniel was hauling himself out of the water and onto the shelf of flat rock at the base of the waterfall. He looked amazing -- all long, lightly furred legs, smooth skin and effortless athleticism. Jack pressed his dick harder with the heel of his hand as he caught a glimpse of water dripping from Daniel’s cock; his long, thick, cut cock. A stifled groan passed Jack’s lips as his own cock twitched at the sight of Daniel’s. It was beautiful. _Daniel_ was beautiful, and he should _not_ be thinking that. He was so fucked. The scene before him was an utter cliché (and everyone knew exactly how Jack felt about clichés) and food for a million jerk-off fantasies. But this was real and the hard-on was real and there was no way he was going to make it to the Gate without Daniel seeing it and knowing.  
  
As Daniel whooped in delight, running his hands through his hair beneath the torrent of water, Jack sat down behind a big rock at the edge of the pool. Frantically, he undid his fly, gasping aloud as he fumbled with shaking fingers to free himself. God, the feel of the hot dick in his hand felt so good. He had to be quick, couldn’t risk Daniel catching him with his cock in his hand and Daniel’s name on his lips. He spat onto his fingers -- no time to hunt out the sunblock -- and worked the tip between fingers and thumb, just how he liked it.  
  
He closed his eyes. He saw images of Daniel’s ass, taut and leanly muscled, and bit back a grunt as he imagined touching, squeezing, burying his cock there. But there was no time to conjure up his favorite fucking-Daniel-in-the-shower masturbation fantasy. No time for finesse. Breathing hard, he grabbed his balls with his left hand, rolled them and then pulled them tight. He loved that; loving pulling on the sac as his other hand worked his dick in fast, frenzied, short strokes.  
  
He bit his lip hard to stop making the sounds he wanted to make – sounds that spoke of need and desire and god, love. There was a part of him that wanted Daniel to hear and know. Right now, he thought maybe he could live with that more easily than this unrequited shit that had crept up on him out of nowhere.  
  
Daniel smiling, Daniel blinking, Daniel frowning, Daniel talking, just fucking _talking,_ Daniel working at the temple in damp T-shirt and that _fucking bandana,_ Daniel under the waterfall, wet and gorgeous and ...  
  
“Unnngh,” he spilled over his hand. No build up, no surge, no twinge in his balls. Just his body’s explosive and immediate response to the images of Daniel his brain had conjured to tease and torment. He milked his softening cock through the final micro-contractions and savored every second. Fingers dripping, he licked them, eyes closed; he tasted himself, wishing it was Daniel’s sweat.  
  
Fighting the urge to sleep, he wiped his hand on his pants and tucked himself in. He was exhausted. As orgasms went, it was a doozy.  
  
With a major effort, he gathered himself together and, battling aching knees, got to his feet. Daniel was swimming back across the pool. He rose from the water looking like some mythical sea god, damn him, and began dressing.  
  
Jack tried not to watch and failed.  
  
“You should have come,” Daniel said, tilting his head toward the waterfall, eyes alight, expression unreadable.  
  
Jack went to hand Daniel his pack only to find him washing his bandana and wringing it out. He walked over to Jack, and wiped his face gently ... forehead, cheeks, chin, lips ... dabbing softly, caressing almost. Jack closed his eyes and let it happen. Christ, he was screwed. He opened his eyes to find Daniel watching him. Gaze level. Giving nothing away. He dabbed is own face, just as gently, just as slowly, and tied the bandana around his head, then he took his pack, turned, and headed for the trees.  
  
 _Unbearably hot,_ Jack thought, wondering how the hell was going to get through another hour of being hypnotized by that swaying ass.  
  
Wondering how he was going to get through this at all.


End file.
